Interlude
by Verdot
Summary: Exploration of different relationships...can you guess who they are (before the end, where I give it away? Each chapter is a set of conversations between two different people. Drop a line if you've read it, just curious, really.
1. Chapter 1 Remember

Ok, I was up late at night and this came out. I love dialog, so I figured it would be fun to write a series of dialogs without anything else. Can you guess who the two people are? (before the end)

* * *

"I think you just smiled," the woman said, grinning at him. He shook his head a little, but she was right.

"Perhaps," he said.

"You should do it more," she retorted, "it suits you."

* * *

"Do you think he might?" she said, looking up at the man cautiously.

"Just ask him," he said, hiding the smile that was creeping onto his face.

"I can't do that!" she replied, exasperated, "It's too...serious, you know?"

"Always try," he said, giving her a pat on her shoulder, "Never give up."

"I didn't think you were so positive," she replied, giving him a skeptical look.

"I'm not," he said, stalking off while she looked after him confusedly.

* * *

"Tell me about her," she said, blocking the exit he was making his way towards.

"Move," he said with an irritated voice.

"Not until you tell me about her," she said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"There is nothing to tell," he said, pushing her aside.

"I can tell when someone is in love, you know," she said, putting herself in his path again.

"Was," he said, pushing past her, almost running.

* * *

"So when did it fade for you?" she said, always the conversation starter. He was staring off into space, as usual.

"When I knew I couldn't see her again," he replied, reluctantly. She patted his hand, her eyes expressing concern.

"So you've given up?" she said, pulling her hand away, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"You don't know me," he replied, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

"Well, I won't claim to," she said, grinning slyly, "But it faded for me, too, you know." He looked up at her, a little surprised.

"Why?" he asked, a faint breathy question.

"He doesn't love me," she said, staring off into nothingness, "Besides, he's not the only person I've ever thought of that way."

"Oh," he said, picking up his drink, "Hope this new beau has some more sense."

"He's not a beau...yet" she said, taking a swig of her shot.

"Well, you should tell him," he said, placing the glass back on the table, "That was your problem before."

"I know," she answered, "I just had to make sure he was available."

* * *

"Don't EVER scare me like that again!" he shouted at her, as she staggered onto her feet.

"What," she said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "No mouth to mouth?" He grabbed her shoulders roughly, and shook her lightly.

"I was...worried," he said, his voice softening, "I thought you were dead."

"Ya, well, it takes more than a psychopath to knock Tifa Lockheart down!" she said, her burgundy eyes dancing playfully.

"Just be careful," he said, "You are not as immortal as you think."

* * *

"Tifa?" he asked, not sure if she was awake. She stirred.

"Hmmm?" she replied, a little groggy still.

"She was very beautiful," he said, recalling an old confrontation, "Very intelligent. But ultimately foolish."

"Obviously," she said, casting him a timid look, "Look at the weirdo she married."

"I suppose," he said, looking down into his lap, "But I still feel responsible."

"Some things never change..." she trailed off, rolling over to go back to sleep.

"Goodnight...Tifa," he whispered.

* * *

"Vincent?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes?" he replied.

"You're immortal, right?" she asked cautiously.

"Unfortunately," he replied, looking away from her.

"Will you visit my grave when I'm gone?" she asked timidly, turning so that he could look at her straight.

"Every chance I get," he replied, barely audible.

"Ok..." she said walking off.

"...I just hope you live a long life, Tifa"

* * *

"Tifa..." he said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

"Yes, Vince?" she said, turning around to face him.

"...I will be leaving..." he said, turning his head down.

"......ok," she replied slightly downcast. Then she perked up, "Take care."

"...goodbye." He walked off, she stared at his retreating form for a few minutes.

"Don't go," she said finally, and despite the distance he gained, his fine hearing allowed him to distinguish her voice.

"Yes?"

"...I...." she began, her words choking in her throat.

"I love you too," he said, making his way back to her.


	2. Chapter 2 How Long

Note: Well, these are just too fun to write...so I decided to let all my romanticness out again. This is NOT Vincent and Tifa, it's another couple. Guess?

Remember: I have two bigger fics in the works...Obsession's Other Brother and Dunpeal Crossing...it would make me happy if you read them...

* * *

"Thank you," the man said, fidgeting nervously, "I couldn't have done it without you."

"No problem," she said smiling, "what are friends for?"

"Yes," he replied, not bothering to suppress his grin, "Friends."

* * *

"Don't you ever," she began, her feet swinging in the air as she sat next to him, "dream of what if?"

"Of course," he answered searching her posture for an answer, "Who doesn't?"

"Well, what if this was the end of the world?" she said, a childlike curiosity playing upon her face.

"We've done that once already," he said, sitting up with a show of manly prowess, "I suppose we would have to re-evaluate what's important."

"So what IS important?" she said slyly. He grinned.

"Interaction," he said, watching the puzzle on her face, "To know we aren't alone."

* * *

"You look tired," he said, concerned at the way she dragged her feet, "Maybe you should rest."

"I can't rest," she said stubbornly, "He's out there. What if he's hurt?"

"Then I will have to carry both of you," he said, matter-of-factly. She grinned, a tired but grateful gesture.

"Some things never change..." she said, pushing herself just a little harder.

* * *

"Why?" he asked breathlessly, watching for her face for the answer, and finding none.

"You just don't see it," she said, the frustration clinging to every syllable, "do you?"

"What?" he asked, hoping for a sign from her.

"Goodbye," she said, storming out the door.

* * *

"Hi," she said shyly, peering in through the open door.

His head shot up, attached to the sound, "You're back."

"Of course I am," she said with a hushed voice, "You have that effect."

"Good," he said walking over to her, "A year is such a long time to waste."

* * *

"I like your hair that way," he said, hoping to catch her blush, "Makes you look...sophisticated."

"T-thank you," she said, giving him the amusement he sought; her cheeks flushed heatedly.

"You've changed," he said, giving her a good look over.

"Life will do that to you..." she trailed off.

"Do you think everyone is happy?" she asked, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder.

"Of course," he said, gently wrapping his arm around her, "They all have something important...families, purpose, maybe even love."

She straightened up suddenly, "Even Vincent?" He smiled.

"I saw him yesterday," he said, watching the surprise in her face, "He told me to keep it secret. He's doing fine."

"Why the secrecy," she pouted, her eyes sparkling, "He knows he can talk to me."

"Oh, you'll see..." he said, whistling softly to himself.

"Cloud!" she shrieked at him, "You're impossible!"

* * *

"Before we go in there," he said, his face suddenly serious, "I have to tell you something."

"You're not keeping this from me any longer..." she said, trying to peer over his shoulder.

"No," he said grabbing her shoulders firmly, "Just hold on."

"Fine," she said rolling her eyes, "What is it?"

He took a deep breath, "I love you, Tifa."

A tear rolled down her cheek, "Oh, you have no idea how long I've loved you..."

* * *

Here's a Cloti for you, Cresent-Wish-Forever...thanks for the inspiration.


	3. Chapter 3 Honor

"Don't gawk at me like you're so surprised," she said, giving him a sly look.

"S-surprised? Nah, I was just happy to see you," he said, fidgeting nervously.

"Right..." she said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

"Travel is hell," she said, letting her shoulders droop. He eyed her concernedly.

"Well, maybe you should rest for awhile," he said, giving her shoulder a pat. She grinned.

"I think that's the first time you've expressed any concern..." she said, soaking up his immediate reaction.

"What? I show concern to all my teammates," he said, playing with a loose strand of his hair.

She just nodded...her voice too weary.

* * *

"You've been quiet for a long time," he said, glancing at her as they walked.

"I'm just..." she said, furrowing her eyebrows with the strain of concentration, "...thinking."

"Important matters?" he said playfully, flashing a smile. She just nodded.

"Well, some things I guess no one will understand..." she trailed off, leaving him with a puzzled expression.

* * *

"Did you always want to be a warrior?" she asked, fiddling lazily with the spoon in her tea. He looked up at her, pausing to choose his words.

"We all have aspirations," he said, "I guess some are more appealing."

"I suppose you're right..." she said, staring into the late afternoon, "but I can't help but think about it."

"How so?" he asked, settling into a more comfortable position in his seat.

"I guess what I'm getting at is...definition," she paused, concentrating ever more fervently, "Aspiration...our own roles...where does the person begin?"

"This sounds more like a conversation fit for Nanaki," he said, and quickly shut his mouth seeing her scowl.

"I guess you're right," she said curtly, suddenly having an all-consuming interest in her tea.

* * *

"You're such a child sometimes," she snapped at him, her face an accusation in itself. His eyebrows rose skeptically.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, the innocence is his voice nearly laughable.

"You," she said, storming out of sight.

* * *

"Welcome back," he said, scanning her face for signs of anger. He relaxed, having found none.

"I decided to forgive you," she said, standing with her arms akimbo, "because Nanaki told me to." He grinned extending his arms out.

"I guess we're all children sometimes," she said, lightly launching into a hug.

* * *

"Honor..." he said, his eyes entranced in the thought, "is something worth the hype. It's like love in that way I guess."

"Love?" she scoffed, "An equally ambiguous term. I want...the guts of the matter. I want to know how a person can manage to be...a person, even with all these ideals weighing them down."

"Hmmm..." he said, scratching his head. Then his eyes brightened.

"Like this," he said, leaning over and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. She blushed furiously.

"What did you feel?" he asked, ignoring her reddening hue. She shrugged.

"A few things," she answered, trying her best to keep cool.

"Are you still Yuffie?" he asked, searching her face, "Do you still have your own thoughts? Your own...emotions?" She nodded, a quick jerky movement.

"It's like that," he said, looking into the whispy clouds in the sky, "Quick bursts of outside influence, tickling the surface of your mind, calling to something in yourself."

"Geez," she said, her color returning to normal, "You could have just said that."

* * *

"I'm not going back to Wutai," she said, standing confidently in his doorway. He nodded.

"Good for you," he said, shifting his attention to the photographs that scattered across his desk.

"Aren't you surprised?" she said, an edge of impatience in her voice, "...Or happy?"

"Sure, Yuffie," he said, brushing her off with the slightest of hand gestures. She stomped her way down the stairs.

* * *

"I knew you were blind..." she said, a terse sound filling her words, "I mean you didn't even notice _Tifa_ had fallen for you." He shrugged.

"She's not anymore," he said in a superior tone, "She's with Vincent. Didn't you get the letter?" She gripped her fists, avoiding the slew of colorful metaphors that were bound to ensue.

"That's not the point," she said, slinking off before he could react.

"Are you...jealous?" she asked, drinking in his expression. He didn't move or even breathe in response.

"We're only dating casually," she said, girlishly flipping back her now longer hair. He gritted his teeth.

"I'm worried about your safety," he said in quick, precise syllables, "It is _Reno_ after all."

She giggled, only causing him to tense more.

"You're such a tease sometimes, Cloud," she said, sashaying out to meet her date.

* * *

"Out awful late..." he said, stopping his pacing sentry in front of the window. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"You're not my father, you know," she said, the annoyance filling every aspect of her persona.

"I don't want you to see him," he said abruptly. She scowled.

"I want to," she responded, rebelliously. He shook his head.

"Why?" he asked, an odd sound in his voice.

"Because you didn't," she said, making her way across the room.

"What if I did?" he asked, raising his eyes to stare at her now still form.

"Then I would be powerless to stop you," she said, skipping into his embrace.

* * *

This was amazingly hard and fun to write. I had to really pull my mind into other realms to see how this sort of relationship would start out. I hope you don't mind my little Reno cameo...I couldn't help it.


	4. Chapter 4 Look

"So, you've come to kill me, no?" she said, arms folded in front of her, standing proudly.

"Not exactly," he said the controls still in his hand, "You don't deserve death."

"Then what do you intend to do with me?" she asked, idly inspecting her nails.

"I don't quite know yet," he said, relaxing his stance.

* * *

"You're quite irritating when you do that," he said, pointing at her face. She scowled deeper.

"It's my face," she said, determinedly, "Take it or leave it."

"Well, at least it's something useful for Halloween," he said, an odd sparkle in his eyes, "You'll scare children for sure." She huffed.

"Insufferable man," she muttered.

* * *

"The newspapers are still running," he said, handing said object to her.

"Good," she said, unfolding it, "then I can know what's been happening on this forsaken heap of rock."

"It wouldn't hurt if you acted happy once in awhile," he said, pulling the edge of the newspaper so he could look her in the eye. She blocked him with it again.

"Of course you would say that..." she mumbled, staring without comprehension at the page.

* * *

"Why?" she asked him, just before he closed the front door. He shrugged.

"Everyone deserves something," he said, "Even you."

"Even me..." she whispered after he finally closed the door.

* * *

"Hey, could I get a job?" she asked, flashing him a saccharine smile. He shook his head.

"I'm not falling for that act," he said, crossing his arms in a masculine stance. She exhaled slowly.

"You treat me as if I'm Sephiroth," she said, pouting this time. He laughed.

"That's not working either," he said, still chuckling, "Besides, you, my dear, are far worse." She resumed her usual scowl.

"Goddamn hypocrite," she said, stomping off.

* * *

"I had a family once," she said, talking at the wall, "I wasn't born from spite."

"I realize that," he said, taking a sip of coffee, "why else would I spare you? You are human, after all."

"What makes you the judge?" she spat out, ripping her eyes from the wall. He looked at her apprehensively.

"Perhaps you are my bit of atonement," he breathed out, "have you ever thought of that?"

* * *

"Power," she said, fiddling with a lock of hair, "Is the most selfish lover."

"Yes," he said, sketching something on a pad of paper, "but sometimes you have to turn your lover out."

"You felt it too..." she said, cautiously feeling each word, "Seductive. Delicious. Beautifully cold..."

"I guess I'm guilty," he said, pausing his work, "I tried to right it when it was too late."

"I was it," she said quietly, "I became it."

"No," he said, resuming his sketching, "I think you had a little too much spunk in you for that."

* * *

"Tell them about me," she said, regarding him beneath her eyelashes. He shook his head.

"I do not think it would be wise," he said, adjusting his hat.

"It's not like I matter anyway..." she hissed at him, hoping for a reaction.

"I highly doubt you would like to be the focus of their anger," he said, tipping his hat and making his way into the daylight.

* * *

"You don't realize what is at your grasp," she said, her eyes greatly affecting by the alcohol, making them look dull.

"Perhaps you should lie down," he said, coaxing the bottle from her hand.

"No!" she screamed, like a child, "I don't want to be cast off! I'm what every man wants!"

"Please," he said softly, "You won't like yourself in the morning if you keep this up."

"Oh?" she said, throwing back her head haughtily, "I already despise myself. What difference would it make?" She grabbed his collar roughly, pulling his face close to hers.

"Please," he said, his tone harsh, "I am not who you want. I am not Tseng."

"Who says I wanted him?" she hissed, "You'll serve as good as any other."

"I know whose name you whisper when no one else is listening..." he said, pulling free from her grip. She slumped forward.

"Fuck off," she muttered.

* * *

"No more drinking for me," she groaned, trying to pull herself off the couch.

"I never thought you'd be up this early," he said cheerfully, handing her a plate of breakfast. She stared at it questioningly.

"Gods," she mumbled, inaudible to him, "You are such a confusing man..."

* * *

"Did you ever know that we had a fling once?" she said, peering closely at him, "We were all drunk...Tseng didn't even remember..."

"I knew," he said, brushing an invisible dust particle off his sleeve, "You always looked different after...encounters."

"I didn't like to sleep with them," she said candidly, still staring into his features, "I hate sex. I always have."

He grinned. "You're far too easy to read," he said, shuffling uncomfortably, "Even if you were an expert."

"What does my face say now?" she asked pulling in close to him.

"That which I am most afraid of," he said, carefully pulling away.

* * *

"Scarlett," he said, shifting at her closeness, "Stop it."

"Do you even know how good I am?" she asked, closing further in on him, "I can even make you squirm."

"I think you've made a valid point," he said, flustered, "Please keep your distance."

"Fine," she said, giving him the distance he asked for, "I couldn't help it..."

* * *

"I hate you!" she cried, fat wet tears splotching her face, "I hate all of you!"

"Please calm down," he bumbled, holding out a napkin to her, which she shook off, angrily.

"Why? Why did you watch me all those years?" she sobbed, "Am I that hideous?"

"No, you're not hideous," he said, grinning a little, "When you're not crying you can look quite lovely." She scowled.

"I still hate you..." she said.

* * *

"You and your high and mighty Oz complex!" she said, throwing her arms in the air. He raised an eyebrow.

"What ever are you talking about?" he asked teasingly, crossing something out on the paper in front of him.

"You, Reeve," she said, hands defiantly on her hips, "The man behind the curtain."

"And what's so interesting about that?" he said, studying the paper, and then jumping back when he look up.

"You keep looking at my eyes," she said, her face inches from his, "I wonder what you see?"

He cleared his throat, "They...are actually more green than blue..." he whispered.

"I am going to kiss you," she said, a statement, not a question.

"Please don't," he whispered back. She blinked.

"You have realized that I find you..." she began, and then shut her mouth.

"Why did you have to be so..." he breathed, "beautiful?" She smiled.

"Because I wanted you to look at me."

* * *

Mwhaha! Bet you didn't see THAT coming! Yes, I'm becoming quite fond of unorthodox pairings... This actually allowed for a lot of creativity, undeveloped characters are always good like that...anyhow thanks for reading! More strange conversations to come...


	5. Chapter 5 Defense

PLUG: Read "Obsession's Other Brother" I work very hard on that one...and I would like people to read it...

* * *

"If you make a move, I will shoot you," he said, his hand steady, and gaze transfixed.

"Please," she said, shakily, "I am not who you think..."

"Step into the light," he clipped, "Where I can see you."

"Ok..." she said, complying with his request.

"Next time, do not sneak up like that," he said, lowering his weapon.

* * *

"Do not be so hasty," he said to her, watching as she gripped the weapon, "Take time to feel it. Then attack."

"It's so...hard!" she said with frustration, looking at him for sympathy.

"Again," he said, resuming his post out of her way.

* * *

"I see you are finally competent as a fighter," he said, noting her stance.

"You taught me well," she said, swinging her object of destruction.

"I admit, I knew you had it in you," he said smiling. She frowned.

"You could have been nicer about it," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Why are you so serious?" she asked, twirling a lock of hair. He shrugged.

"It happens," he said, staring at the ground. She smiled.

"Devotion to the task, I understand," she said, peering over to elicit a smile.

"Ah, but you are far too innocent to even comprehend..." he said, going back to his duties.

* * *

"I brought this for you," she said, smiling widely with an outstretched hand.

"For me?" he said, gazing at the small pink thing in her hand, "It's lovely."

"It's a thank you for training me, and being my friend," she said, looking at him with the wide eyes of a child. He nodded.

"It was no problem," he said, patting her lightly on the shoulder, "Everyone deserves the ability to defend themselves."

* * *

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" she asked, the light autumn breeze tinkling her stray hair. He put his hand up to his chin, considering.

"A teacher," he said, glancing at her exuberant face.

She giggled, "I could see that..." He gave her a mock indignant face.

"Well, miss," he said, "We can't all be heroes. A brash and uneducated person only looks forward to an early grave..." He grinned a little at her. She gasped.

"Y-you're...kidding with me?" she said incredulously, "I thought you were far too serious for that kind of thing..."

"I am neither brash nor uneducated..." he said, regaining his usual expression, "I only hope that you will be the same."

* * *

"Why do you still treat me like a child?" she asked, sweetly smiling up at his stiffly standing form. He shrugged.

"I only treat you as you deserve," he said, using his height to make a point, "Which is better than most adults. Be thankful for your youth." He started to walk off.

"I have been older than anyone would guess..." she said quietly, "...my entire life."

"...I know," he said, giving her one last glance before departing.

"You have to meet him!" she nearly screamed with glee, tugging at his arm. He shrugged if off carefully.

"...Yes, I suppose I will," he said finally, examining the laughter in her face.

"He's not that good of a shot," she said, quickly, without taking a breath, "He's a fighter of a different kind...and he's so cute!" He frowned slightly.

"Has he been indecent or unkind to you in any way?" he asked quickly. She shook her head.

"Stop worrying, I can defend myself, remember?" she said, squaring her shoulders with gusto.

"Indeed," he said, letting her drag him along.

* * *

"Do you approve?" she asked, after the younger man was out of sight. He crossed his arms.

"I suppose," he said sternly, watching as her face fall.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked anxiously. He grinned.

"Nothing," he said, raising an eyebrow, "He's a fine young man. That look on your face...is priceless."

"Oh, you're awful!" she screeched, smacking his shoulder.

* * *

"His letters stopped coming," she said soberly, "I can't feel his presence. Something is horribly wrong..." He put an arm around her shoulder.

"He's fine," he said, watching the silent stream of tears on her face, "It's part of his duty. He must be doing something special." She nodded a little, choking back a sob.

"Yes...special," she said absently, hugging his form tightly.

* * *

"I've been waiting," she said as he approached. He bowed slightly.

"Sorry to keep you," he said politely. She stared at her feet.

"He's not coming back," she said, still staring at the ground. He looked at her uneasily.

"How do you know?" he whispered. She shook her head.

"I just know. Why ask questions?" she said fiercely. He backed up a little.

"Then duty and you will be at odds," he said, searching for her eyes, and not meeting them, "I hope that you do not fall in with ill company."

* * *

"I trusted you!" she shouted at him, staring down his gun. He did not stir.

"I always knew you were different," he said quietly, "I just hoped that Shinra wouldn't find out."

"I don't care! I loved you!" she fumed, hoping to draw some of his humanity out, "If you hadn't left..." His hand gave a slight tremble.

"Loved? Aeris, you were in love with that Zack..." he said icily, "I am not as stupid as you think." She frowned.

"So this is how it is..." she whispered, "Your duty is always first."

"Even before you," he said, grabbing her wrist to take her away.

* * *

"I have forgiven you..." she whispered into the night. Where he was sleeping, he dreamed a fair dream.

"I've always loved you..." he mumbled, the night his only witness.

* * *

"It makes sense..." he whispered looking at the horrified faces of his comrades, "That I should die like this..."

"I will join you soon enough," he heard Aeris whisper in his ear, "Tseng, I forgive you."

He smiled.

"Maybe you will find him," he breathed, at last closing his eyes.

* * *

Author's Note: Tragic. I know, but I don't really see any other type of relationship between two people who died in the game. And no, I don't believe in resurrecting Aeris...sorry fans. Sephiroth, maybe, I don't believe he was that easy to kill, he's all super human and stuff (and he's in the Advent Children movie listed as a character, while Aeris is not). Anywho, rant over. Hope this lives up to the expectations that have been set for me... 


	6. Chapter 6 Confidence

"Hi there," she said, curious young eyes scanning the scene, "Who are you?"

"One of the best," he said, flexing a muscle in conspicuously. She giggled.

"Well, you'd better hurry," she said indicating with a flick of her eyelashes, "Your friends are leaving you."

* * *

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you anytime soon," he said, striding into the room. She nodded solemnly.

"Yes, well," she began, something dark shadowing her eyes, "Things change I suppose."

"Well, you're still quite lovely," he said boldly, stepping up to where she had propped herself against, "Makes me wish I could have talked with you more."

"Talk?" she said bitterly, "That's not what men want to do." He looked confusedly at her, as she dissappeared further into the bowels of the place.

* * *

"Must you always come in here?" she asked teasingly, her stance relaxed. He laughed.

"I figured if I came in here every day," he began, a slight modesty creeping into his voice, "you would eventually talk to me." She grinned.

"Well, persistence can pay off," she said, moving to stand within conversation distance.

* * *

"Then just ask her already!" she shrieked at him, swatting him with a towel. He shrugged.

"Despite popular belief," he said, his voice lowered, "I can be quite shy." He winked.

"Yes, when Hell freezes over," she said knowingly, "Or when Shinra starts selling flowers as their only business."

"Flowers..." he said, putting a hand up to his chin, "That's for the idea..." She raised an eyebrow.

"I sense a diabolical plot," she said, crossing her arms. He laughed.

"No, I'm just modifying your advice," he said, giving her a quick wave goodbye.

* * *

"She's alright..." he said, raising the glass to his lips, but not drinking, "I think she and that tall guy have something."

"Something?" she asked, wiping a spot on the table.

"Yes..." he said, shoulders slumped forward, "That 'spark'. You know what I mean."

"I suppose," she said, nervously fiddling with her fingers, "I've never experienced it." He mockingly let his jaw drop.

"What? A babe like you?" he said, his voice warm and friendly. She chuckled.

"Your endless flatteries are sweet," she said, "but I'm taken. I promised."

"Then how could you have not experienced it?" he questioned, eyes probing her face for a minute.

"I believe in persistance too," she said, averting her eyes, "Time won't pass me by. I can feel it."

* * *

"Why won't you tell me more about Him?" he asked, having cornered her again. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Please. I have work to do," she said politely. He let out a breath like a hiss.

"Fine. Then I'll set you up with a friend of mine," he said frivilously, "He's got this pansy sounding name, but he's one of my best friends. You'd like him."

"I don't want your friend," she said quietly.

"Him?" he said cautiously.

"I don't know..." she whispered, freeing herself from his blockade.

* * *

"You shouldn't do that," she said, wiping her hand across her face. He leaned in.

"It was just a friendly kiss," he said, eying her hungrily. She backed up.

"It's not polite," she said, finding her way away from him.

* * *

"Confidence," he began, tapping a fork on the table, "is something that most people cannot see through. It is the perfect shield."

"Really?" she asked, patiently stirring her hot tea.

"How do you think I get by?" he leaned in his voice hushed and conspiratorial. Her eyes grew wide.

"Human," she said quietly, "Aren't we so very human?"

"If that's what you wish to call it," he said, ceasing his tapping, "I call it frailty."

* * *

"I have a mission to go on, Tifa," he said carefully, watching her eyes. Her gaze was unrelenting.

"For how long?" she asked innocently. He drew in a deep breath.

"I have no idea," he said, he usual confident pose drooping. She furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's wrong?" she studied his features.

"It's Cloud, isn't it?" he said finally, "He is Him?" She nodded nearly imperceptively.

"That's fabulous," he said with a huff, "I leave the day after tomorrow." He walked off.

"I don't know..." she whispered, feeling a small tear in the corner of her eye.

* * *

"Thank you for meeting me," she said, breaking the silence upon their meeting. He nodded.

"I suppose I should tell you," he said grudgingly, "He talks of no one else but you." Her expression remained the same.

"We made a promise," she said slowly, "For him to come and save me. And he did." He scowled slightly.

"I can't change fate, can I?" he said quietly, "Not with Aeris, and now..." He stopped with an exhale.

"Do you think..." she began, words tangling in her throat, "That I love him?" He stared hard at her.

"Yes, as much as he..." he garnered his thoughts, "...I...you." She looked startled.

"Tomorrow," she said, "I will see you tomorrow. Before you go." With that, she walked off.

* * *

"Zack!" she shouted, running to catch up with him. He turned around.

"Why? I thought you said tomorrow," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. She was panting, catching her 't" she huffed, "I couldn't keep it up." He raised an eyebrow.

"The charade," she continued, shifting her weight, "My shyness." She blushed.

"You're not shy," he said carefully, "Your expression is through your body, never words."

"So then you will understand this?" she said cautiously, getting up on her tiptoes to his eye level.

"What?" he asked breathlessly, forgetting any words he had to say with the arrival of her kiss.

* * *

Author's Note: This is for Zelda6. I finally wrote it! Hope it's to your liking. Coincides with the previous chapter...the situation warranted it. All of this is pregame. Hopefully you'll catch my subtle hints about the location. If not...sorry.

10/21/04: Fixed a line that could almost be yaoi-ish...oops.


	7. Chapter 7 Drunk

"HELLO!" he nearly screamed at her, the headphones drowning out his voice.

"...more than three times a week, up for being experimental..." she sang softly, oblivious to his presence still.

"Hello?" he said again, giving up on shouting and tapping her on the shoulder.

"Gaah!" she screeched, jumping a little in her seat.

"Welcome," he said extending his hand.

* * *

"C'mon," he said, walking fast in front of her, "Move your ass." She frowned.

"You're not very nice," she said almost childlike. He smirked.

"You're not very useful," he said, delighting in the hue of red her face must be.

* * *

"Drink it," he said, downing his own poison. She scrunched her nose.

"Why?" she asked, looking at the glass with contempt. He shrugged.

"Forget. Live. Forget again," he said quietly, "You'll soon be begging for the bottle."

"Well, I think you're just another stupid drunk," she said boldly. He grimaced.

"You know nothing of what I am," he said, indicating to the bartender he wanted another drink.

* * *

"Why doesn't he have..." she began sheepishly, "...A girlfriend?"

"Not that type of person," he said, nearly laughing, "Maybe he likes guys."

"Shut up!" she huffed, glaring at him.

"You're so easy to rile up," he said, flicking her ear with his finger.

"I HATE it when you do that..." she almost whined, and then let her fists do the talking.

* * *

"He'll be alright...right?" she asked, knowing full well the answer. He nodded.

"He should be fine," he lied. She almost grinned.

"You don't have to lie to me. I'm an adult," she breathed, "I can handle it." He shook his head.

"Wanna go get a drink?" he asked quietly. She nodded.

* * *

"You are way too sssshilent," he said, slurring his words carelessly. She struggled to keep her head up.

"Tell me," she said quietly, "About you."

"Naaaah..." he murmured, "You're waaay mooore intereshting." She scowled.

"I don't need you pity," she whispered, "Or for you to get into my pants." He looked at her with absolute sober clarity.

"What do you think _I_ am?" he spat out. She shrugged.

"Another result of this city," she annunciated, "Haunted, but somehow lively." He grinned.

"You shure you don't wanna get into my pants?" he wiggled his eyebrows, making her giggle.

"No," she said through her smile, "You smell awful!"

* * *

"And they say women are whores," she muttered as he stumbled into the room.

"I heard that," he said, grimacing while holding his hands to his head.

"Another brunette?" she said coyly, "Some pretty young teenager?"

"You don't have to be such a bitter hag," he said, holding his hands over his hungover ears. She slammed something on her desk.

"Shit!" he yelled, "My head already feels like a jackhammer's chipping away at it!"

"Just keeping you on your toes," she said with an imperial air. He frowned.

"Remind me never to drink again," he said quietly.

* * *

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

"I know this is what you do after work," he said, standing in the doorway.

"Did Rude tell you?" she accused. He shook his head.

"You're far too easy to read," he said walking nearer to her desk, "Besides, I followed you." She grimaced.

"It hurts," she sighed, "I don't like death. At all."

"Well," he casually uttered, "It's what happens. You either get busy with life, or you cling to the dead." She stared at him. "...or you get drunk and forget," he whispered so she couldn't hear.

"Let's go to the bar," she sobbed, "I want to feel numb. Will you help me?" He stared down her pleading eyes.

"Just smile for me," he breathed, still separated by the desk, "Please?"

She reluctantly complied.

* * *

"Wake up!" she screeched at him, hovering above his sleeping form.

"Mmm..." he murmured, "Wazzup?"

"You bastard!" she yelled, finally pulling him out of dreamland. He looked up her puzzled.

"Wha...happened?" he asked, suddenly realizing she should not be in his room.

"You sleazebag! You..." she could not finish, her fury too sudden for her head.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, holding his throbbing head in his hands.

"I can't. Something about crying, then the bar..." she opened her eyes wide.

"Let's just pretend it's nothing," he whispered, "We drank a little too much."

"Right..." she muttered, gathering up her clothes and staring into nothingness.

* * *

"Will you at least talk to me?" he pleaded, watching her ice cold form. She continued to ignore him.

"I didn't mean it," he whispered harshly, "I'm sorry I didn't cut you off sooner." She turned to him sharply and scowled.

"Easy for you to say," she hissed, and sauntered out of the room.

"Damn," he whispered, "Stupid!"

* * *

"Ha!" he laughed, "Caught you!" She looked at the door, and noticed the keys dangling from his hand.

"You...can't be serious," she sighed incredulously. He grinned.

"Just let me apologize," he said carefully, "Then I'll let you out."

"Alright," she said, slumping her shoulders, "Apologize."

"I'm sorry," he said clear and crisp. She grinned.

"Let me out," she demanded, a little humor in her voice, "I need to get to the bar before it closes."

"I hope you understand your tolerance now..." he scolded, handing her the keys.

* * *

"So it's all over, Reno," she said nostalgically, surveying the ruined city. He shrugged.

"It's been that way for a while now," he said matter-of-factly. She frowned at him.

"Was it really...nothing?" she quietly asked. He raised his eyebrows.

"Of course," he answered, "We messed up once."

"Twice," she whispered. He looked over at her wide eyed.

"...I left before you woke up," she said, turning her head to him. He smirked.

"Well," he joked, "I must be something, huh?" She smirked back.

"I wouldn't flatter yourself," she said slyly. He grinned.

* * *

"...What are you doing?" she asked, having noticed his untouched drink.

"It's called kissing," he said sarcastically, "Something that young people do?" She backed off.

"You're sober," she said shakily. He nodded.

"Just curious," he said, mischief in his eyes, "I can't remember the other times."

"NO!" she shouted suddenly, wiping the grin off his face, "Please don't." She ran out of the bar, leaving a confused Reno behind.

* * *

"You always know where to find me," she said as he entered the room.

"Len, it's Tseng's office," he said quietly, "You're always in here."

"It still _feels_ like him," she whispered, staring into space, "It's comforting."

"I know," he said, approaching her slowly, "I just hoped you where the other type."

"What is that?" she asked cocking her head to the side. He smiled a little at this action.

"The type who would get busy living," he said, sitting in the chair next to her. A tiny tear made its way down her cheek.

"Don't..." he murmured, "...Elena, stop crying." She shook her head.

"I'm not mourning," she said quietly, "I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked, leaning so he got a full view of her face.

"This," she met his mouth, suppressing any more words in her throat.

"...It wasn't nothing," he said quietly, breaking away before taking the plunge again.

* * *

Perhaps a little obvious. If you're curious, the song Elena is listening to is "21 things i want in a lover" (yes, it's supposed to be all lower case) by Alanis Morrisette. Thought she would be into that sort of music.


	8. Chapter 8 Linger

"Pleased to meet you miss," he said carefully, extending his hand in the usual greeting. She returned his shake.

"The pleasure is mine," she said graciously, watching for a smile of inflated egoism. She found none.

"We must begin immediately," he said, walking off with importance, the smile filling his face as he turned away.

* * *

"I think you should take a break," he said looking over at her slowly drooping head.

"Not done yet," she replied, stubbornly keeping her head up.

"As you wish," he said, going back to his duties. She finally slumped over.

"They never listen..." he said, observing her snoring form.

* * *

"Do you know what this means?" he said carefully, observing her steady hands.

"Yes," she said eyes aglow. He grinned slightly.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, eyes diverted from his subject.

* * *

"So what did you want to be as a child?" she asked, bored with the tedious work at hand. He looked over at her quizzically.

"Why do you ask?" he said cautiously. She shrugged.

"I want to know more about you," she boldly stated. He blinked.

"...a General. Of some grand army," he nearly whispered, "the Hero." She smiled widely.

"I could see that..." she said, going back to her task.

* * *

"You should get some rest, I insist," he said, watching as she pushed herself yet again. She yawned.

"I'm not tired..." she argued. He raised an eyebrow.

"I'll have him take you home," he said, pointing to the man outside the door.

"Mmm...kay," she said, her mind floating off.

"Be careful with her..." he whispered, returning to work.

* * *

"Do you like this type of music?" he asked, putting a record on the turntable. She smiled.

"Mmm..." she murmured, closing her eyes as the music filled the room, "...Mozart. How did you know?" He smirked.

"Research," he answered.

* * *

"Dance," she said gently placing a hand on his shoulder, "how about it?" He smiled.

"Of course," he replied, standing up, "But you'll have to show me how. I'm afraid that it's been quite some time."

"Then follow my lead," she giggled, grasping a hand, "Unless you're against that sort of thing..."

"With you..." he whispered inaudibly, "I'd do anything."

* * *

"The applications..." she said with awe, her mind buzzing, "...endless possibilities..."

"If he is correct," he replied soberly. It didn't faze her.

"We'll have to proceed slowly," she whispered, "It will take years."

"Then..." he began, something catching in his throat, "...it will be years. I'd like that."

* * *

"Why do you always fiddle with your hair when you're reading?" he asked, peering over at her. She blushed.

"Old habit, I picked it up while in school," she replied.

"It's fascinating to watch," he murmured, turning his attention back in front of him.

"Linger..." she whispered.

* * *

"What impact would you want to have on the world?" she asked, the lazy Sunday breeze blowing her stray hairs.

"Perhaps..." he began thoughtfully, "Through my children. I would give them something to change the world with."

"That's sweet," she said gazed up at him with innocent eyes, "If only I would be so lucky, as to have children like that."

* * *

"Can you stay a little longer?" he asked, watching as she made her way to the door. She stopped.

"It's getting late," she said glancing up at the clock.

"Please," he said, softer now, "I think you'll enjoy it." She walked closer to him.

"Well?" she asked with mock impatience. He laughed.

"Take this..." he said, handing her a box. She opened it gingerly.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, admiring the beautiful gift. He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"...I..." he whispered close to her ear, "...think...I...love you." She looked at him with wide eyed wonder.

"Then you won't mind this..." she said slyly, embracing him, "If I linger a little longer...love."

* * *

"Why were you out so late?" he asked, watching as she slinked into the room. She cringed.

"Please don't be jealous," she said quickly, trying to read his face, "It's nothing."

"I'll believe you," he said staring hard at her, "If you promise never to see him again."

"Of course," she answered, grabbing him tightly, "Just let me say goodbye."

* * *

"Oh! I couldn't..." he heard her voice, from where he was watching. He smiled to himself.

"She is with me..." he whispered. Then his jaw dropped, watching the actions of the two figures.

"No!" she shouted again, her lips hers again. She was running towards him.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, appearing from the shadows.

"Just hold me," she said, between the tears, "Let me linger here with you."

"Yes, my dear..." he whispered, his eyes following the figure in the distance.

* * *

"I'm pregnant," she said, her face glowing. He smiled.

"Then we shall see our future..." he trailed off, a shared secret smile between them.

* * *

"What did you do with him?" she asked, hands angry on her hips. He ignored her.

"Maybe he ran off with one of the local girls," he said quietly, "You know those Turks..."

"Alright," she said reluctantly, "You're not jealous, still, are you?"

"Never, my dear," he said quietly, trying not to betray his real tone.

* * *

"I feel so weak..." she said, a faint look on her face, "Can we forgo the injections for today?"

"No, dear," he said, "It will reverse the years we've put into this..." She sighed.

"This is our contribution..." she said; sweat dripping from her brow, "I fear it might kill me, Dr. Hojo."

"Please don't be so formal, Lucrecia," he quietly pleaded.

"Just let me hold him," she said quietly.

* * *

"Give it all you've got!" he said, as she gave the final push. She was breathing erratically, and sweating profusely.

"Can...I hold him?" she asked, a faint and breathy request. He ignored her.

"I have to check to see how the cells are holding up," he said, eyes wide with discovery. She breathed in painfully.

"Please...Linus..." she pleaded, "...Hojo...please,"

"Just a minute dear..." he said distractedly, but she did not hear.

* * *

So...ya. Maybe not the best Hojo/Lucrecia out there...but I'm curious as to how they were together. Don't worry, Vincent fans...I'm one of you. I just only write Vincent unrequited Lucrecia pieces...cause that's how I see it. So Hojo had to be appealing at some point...he just hid his madness from her, I think....

10/21/04: The controversial "ego" bit (first conversation) has been changed slightly. I just wanted to make him more sly...hope he appears egotistical enough.


	9. Chapter 9 Patience

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern playing through her features.

"No," he said calmly, "I'm sorry."

"T-thank you," she muttered, averting her eyes.

* * *

"And to make it real...I need to..." she sang quietly, feather duster conveying her movement.

"Hey..." he said, slightly on the rude side, tapping his foot. She turned around abruptly.

"Oh..." she began, "I didn't see you..." He held up his hand, signalling her to stop.

"I'll get right to it..." she whispered, hurrying to her task.

* * *

"The whole thing's a damn mess..." he ranted, slamming down his cup for emphasis, "It'll take years...maybe months..." Her eyes were glazed over, in that half dreamy state.

"You still there?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face. She jumped.

"I can help," she said quietly. He rolled his eyes.

* * *

"What are you doing, woman!?" he was yelling, watching as she threw things out the window, a nonchalant expression on her face.

"Cleaning," she said quietly, "I haven't the patience..."

"Patience?!" he continued, his voice a cacophony of words, "I'll show you patience..."

"Don't" she said, sounding a little more forceful than usual, "Don't you _ever_ talk to me about patience..."

* * *

"So how're ya holdin up?" he muttered into the phone, sounding of static and regret.

"Fine..." she said with words minced by distance, "I have plenty of work to get to..."

"Look," he said softly, the distortion making him hard to hear, "I'm..."

"Sorry," she said hastily, "I know."

"I would like..." he said, words being cut off by the payphone's time limit.

"I want to come back too..." she whispered to the dial tone, "...just not yet."

* * *

"Surprised?" he asked, shifting nervously on his feet. She gave him a shy grin.

"I guess..." she said, fiddling with the wrench, "...why are you here?"

"Cause I'm an idiot," he muttered grudgingly, "...and I missed ya."

"Oh," she said, handing him another wrench, "...help?"

* * *

"It was beautiful," he said, taking a sip of her tea, "So huge..."

"I like it when you tell stories," she said suddenly, without thought. He grinned.

"Stories, eh?" he said with a low tone. She gave him him a quizzical look.

"So...you can tell if I'm lyin?" he said slyly. She nodded.

"Well..." he said, nervously fiddling with his spoon, "You're an alright gal."

"Not lying," she said, grinning.

* * *

"You confuse me," he said, plopping down on the couch, "Why the hell do ya put up with me?"

"Hmmph..." she muttered to herself, "Oblivious."

"Well?" he said impatiently.

"I'm just...patient..." she answered, "Certain things are worth waiting for. You should know that better than anyone."

"I guess..." he said slowly, "...better get back to work then, huh?" She nodded.

* * *

"You even fixed this?" he said, holding up the part in question. She nodded, but barely.

"...I-guess-I-should-tell-ya..." he muttered quickly.

"What?" she said absently, wiping a grease smudge onto her forehead accidentally.

"You've got something on ya..." he said, deftly wiping it away with his thumb. She blinked for a moment, as if startled by the contact.

"Yes?" she said with open eyed innocence. He cleared his throat.

"Er...nothin" he said, quickly walking away.

* * *

"Where'd these come from...?" she asked, noticing some daisies in a teapot on the table.

"Hmm..." he said, casually strolling into the room, "Whaddya starin at?" She grinned.

"Oh...nothing," she said, turning to the kitchen sink, hiding her wide smile.

* * *

"...Listen..." he said, pacing around the room, "...before I lose my nerve..."

"Calm down Captain," she said cheerily, "I'll make you some tea..."

"Stop callin me Captain!" he said forcefully, making her jump a little. He groaned.

"What I mean is..." he said quietly, eyes downcast, "...I love ya, Shera."

"...I know..." she whispered back, "...I was just..."

"Waiting?" he said quickly. She nodded.

"...because...I...I..." she stammered, the muscles in her throat contracting, "......love you...Cid."

"See?" he said, smirking, "It isn't so hard to call me Cid."

"...Don't push it," she said teasingly, "...you might test my patience."

* * *

Author's Note: Song Shera is singing in the second conversation is _Home Now_ by No Doubt.

Yes, I do realize Cid isn't cursing enough...I didn't want to give it away on account of that...so I tried to pick out parts of conversations when he isn't cursing as much...and I didn't describe him smoking...just imagine that he is :)


	10. Chapter 10 Innocence

AN: A little gift for Tijuana Pirate. For being so nice and taking so much time to read through my collection of mishmashed stories...

* * *

"Hey there, shhexxxy," he said, the foul odor of his breath making her cringe. 

"Lay off, you drunken perv!" she screeched, hitting below the belt.

"Dammit!" he yelled, still managing to save his most prized part.

"You need to learn some manners!" she shouted, getting out of his grasp.

"Mannersss? You ssshhould talk," he muttered, taking a good swig as she dissappeared out of sight.

* * *

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, oozing a choking amount of charm. She wrinkled her nose at its stench. 

"Fancy? Didn't think you knew such a word," she quipped. He smirked.

"S'pose you're still as childish as ever," he answered, letting his eyes wander, "Plenty of other women here tonight..." She gave him an angry look and stomped off.

"I still got it," he chuckled to himself, gliding up to the next lonely woman.

* * *

"You like to show up at the worst moments, don't you?" he muttered, reaching over to begin drinking. She scowled. 

"I didn't come here for you," she hissed, assuming a defensive and yet arrogant position, "Really? Funny, that's what she said..." he whispered, finally getting a hold of the bottle.

"Just the messenger..." she replied curtly, dropping the envelope in front of him before stalking off.

* * *

"Oh no," she spoke, demanding and whining at the same time, "I'm not working with you. I don't care what he said..." 

"I'm afraid you're mistaken," he said quietly, failing at hiding his amused grin, "Looks like we're partners." He smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at her.

"There are worse things," she said, flashing him a quick grin, "But then again, we killed him. I guess that makes you the worst now." He gritted his teeth.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing," he answered, a satisfied grin on his face.

* * *

"Ugh, why do I feel, so strange?" she said, woozily staggering about. 

"Steady! We haven't time for this," he said, grabbing her arm to steady her.

"How sweet," she said sarcastically before slumping over.

* * *

"How long have I been out?" she said, her voice cracking from its lack of use. He smiled grimly. 

"Two days," he answered, "You had quite a fever." She groaned as she shifted in the bed.

"Hmm... that explains why my head wants to explode," she said, and rolled over into sleep again.

"Didn't even say thank you," he muttered to himself, "Then again, what did I ever do that was so great?"

* * *

"I'm bored," she stated plainly, "And I can't leave this bed. That means you have to talk to me." He smiled, leaning further in his seat. 

"I could just ignore you," he said, propping his foot up. She scowled.

"Aw c'mon," she said, a little more gentle, "aren't you the least bit curious?" He sniffed, considering her question.

"Alright, shoot," he answered.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, and then bit her lip, "You know...help me." He grinned.

"'Cause now you owe me," he answered smoothly. She scoffed.

"Fine. I'll just go back to sleep," she rolled over, muttering to herself.

* * *

"Alright, alright," he said with mock defenses, holding his hands up, "I admit, I'm a bit of a slob." She arched her eyebrow skeptically. 

"A bit? Ha," she teased, "Looks like you need to fire whoever does your clothes." He chuckled, despite her obvious insults.

"Yes, well what about you?" he quipped, "Your threads hardly qualify for proper attire." She just about lost it.

"Geez, didn't know you even _had_ a vocabulary," she giggled, holding her sides. He smirked.

"Let's not get too friendly, eh?" he said quickly, "It's not like we actually want to be here." She frowned, turning her head down.

"Right..." she said quietly.

* * *

"Get down!" he yelled at her, and she complied, just in time, as bullets whizzed by. 

"I don't need you getting killed," he growled over to her, "Just because of that whole 'hero' business."

"And what do you know?!" she retorted, "Money and reputation hardly qualify as honorable ends."

"Honorable ends!" he kept from shouting through gritted teeth, "Shoot or be shot. Only the damn rich have time to make up such bullshit."

"How bleak," she muttered, adjusting her weapon for another attack, "I guess I'm not old enough to have given up on principles."

"We could fucking die!" he yelled, face twisted into some carnival apparition, "Like that!" He snapped his fingers, illustrating his point. She shook her head.

"Life's too fast, sweetheart," he muttered, face grimly set, "Now let's fucking finish this and get out of here."

* * *

"I didn't think you were old enough to drink," he observing, indicating towards her poison. She smirked. 

"I didn't think you were young enough to care," she quipped, taking a dramatic swig. He sat down, gesturing to the bartender.

"Am I really that naïve?" she asked, not caring if he answered. He shrugged.

"If you've seen death, or dealt it," he muttered eyes focused on the wall, "Then you've given up on any form of innocence."

"Innocence? I could give up a little..." she whispered, the insinuation heavy in the air.

"You're lucky you caught me sober..." he replied, setting down the glass and getting up to leave.

* * *

"It's just another mission," she spoke, trying her best to deadpan, "Bang. Boom. Done." 

"Stop acting like that," he answered, shifting his weight, "You sound like fucking Tseng or something."

"I'm not a child," she retorted, "I can sound like an adult when I want to."

"Yes, but not _that_ adult," he whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, "He's dead."

"What does that matter?" she replied, on the edge of her breath, "People at least respect the dead..." He snorted.

"So that's what you think?" he hissed, "Damn. No wonder..."

"What?" she asked, pulling her shoulder from his grasp, "You got something to say? Like always?"

"No," he said quietly, "Just keep yourself alive, ok? I don't need to bury any more comrades..."

* * *

"Yuffie!" he shouted, seeing the bullet before she reacted, "GET DOWN!" 

She turned, just enough for it to miss anything...vital.

"UGH!" she shouted as it hit, her arm abloom with her own blood.

"Dammit," he muttered, ducking as he made his way towards her, "You never listen..."

"Hey," she said, her eyes glazed, "That kinda hurt." He chuckled.

"No shit," he replied, steadying her, "Can't stay out of trouble, huh?"

"About as well as you can," she replied, before passing out.

* * *

"I wanted to apologize," she whispered hoarsely, "Guess I'm still a little childish..." 

"No," he interrupted, tired eyes regarding her almost coldly, "Don't even talk like that."

"Why?" she breathed, grimacing as she attempted to sit up. He shrugged.

"Hell, you wouldn't sound like yourself, Yuff," he said, a little mischief playing across his features, "Stubborn and all that." She sighed.

"Well, good lot it's done me," she said defiantly, "You acting all nursemaidish and all..."

"Don't push your luck," he said leaning back in his chair, "I'm a bad guy, remember?"

"That's no excuse," she replied, grinning madly.

* * *

"What's the problem?" she said, leaning dangerously towards him, "Do I make you... nervous?" He gulped, sliding along the wall. 

"No," he lied, gritting his teeth with the effort, "Your breath stinks." She wrinkled her nose.

"I could say the same," she muttered, backing off, "When's the last time you bathed?" He let out a slow breath.

"And some people confuse you for a child..." he whispered to himself, not realizing she could still hear.

"Guess you're more innocent than I thought, Reno" she replied, sashaying out of his vision.

* * *

"Are you honestly daring me?" he asked, his face shocked. She smiled. 

"You're the one who told me life's too short," she replied coolly. He smirked.

"If only for the adventure of it," he replied, silencing himself when his lips became entangled in hers.

"That's not what I meant!" she gasped out, pulling herself away. He smirked.

"You dared me to make a move," he replied, tracing her cheek with his fingers, "You didn't specify what kind of move..."

"Well, what now?" she asked, biting her lip, "I'm not sure..." He silenced her with a finger on her lips.

"Shhh," he said, grinning, "I never thought you were ever a child..."

* * *

AN: Gosh, I keep turning Yuffie into such a little vixen... Can't help it, I guess. Oh, and her getting sick and all... um, I was kinda sick for the past couple of days (I even missed class, really bad thing in college) and I took it out on Yuffie. Sorry.  


	11. Chapter 11 Grip

"Thank you for all you've done," he said quietly, the prize he'd been waiting for already in his arms. The woman smiled bowing her head a little.

"Of course," she replied, with the ease her years afforded, "Some things are just too precious."

* * *

"Again?" she asked skeptically, "Shouldn't you be spending time with her yourself?" 

"Well... there are things," he said, shifting uncomfortably, "They need my help."

"Know that I do this only for _her_ sake," she said with an edge, "Don't be surprised if you miss it."

* * *

"Don't you ever feel worn thin?" she asked, stirring her cup of hot tea, "Like the years have faded you away?" He nodded, staring absently out the window. 

"I think we did what was right. That's the only that keeps me goin," he muttered. She noisily let go of the spoon.

"Right? Is that all that bothers you?" she asked, a quiet sort of fury, "What about life? The lives you may have destroyed for your actions..." She hissed out the last part slowly, letting it sink in with him. He grimaced.

"You don't think I feel it?" he asked, a vein pulsing in his forehead, "The voices of the children, the silent eyes of their mothers, the anger of their fathers?" He turned his eyes downward. He breathed in.

"I don't want to talk about this," he said and gave her a quick nod as he got up, "Thank you for the tea."

* * *

"She was crying her eyes out! Where were you!" she whispered harshly, trying not to alert the ears of ones that shouldn't hear. He averted his eyes. 

"You were out with them again, weren't you?" she said, crossing her arms, "Thinking of the good old days, most certainly." He couldn't hold back his reaction as he pounded his fist into the doorframe.

"You can't keep substituting." He stalked off, too angry to continue speaking with her. She blinked, a shell shocked look on her face.

* * *

"You were right, you know," her whisper came from the side of the room, as he snuck in to see that which he cared the most about. He grimaced. 

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, I was being presumptuous," she whispered and closed her mouth tightly.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" she asked, turning around and hiding something quickly behind her back. He frowned. 

"What is that?" he reached for her slightly, and she shut her eyes tightly.

"Don't. Don't." He let his hand drop.

"You need to go outside," he sighed, offering his hand again, "C'mon... the sunshine won't bite."

* * *

"I missed things like this," she spoke absently, "Air. Sky. Grass. Simple things." 

"Good to see our children will able to experience this," he said dreamily, and then noticed the hurt look on her face.

"Look," he whispered, pointing off in the distance, "Can you see it?"

* * *

"You again?" she asked wryly, doing all sorts of mischief in her kitchen. He grinned. 

"I had some free time," he replied, plopping down in a seat next to the table.

"If you're here beggin for food..." she began, hands on her hips. He chuckled.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said and then peered at her oven, "...Unless..." She let out a "tch" and opened the door.

"Fine fine..." she said, pulling the delicious confection out of the oven, "...If you eat me out of house and home..."

* * *

"She over there again?" she nearly sighed, eyes still focused on the book. He nodded, knowing that she was watching somehow. 

"Ya, wanted some more lessons," he replied, posture unsure.

"That's a rather mannish activity you've gotten her into," she said, eyebrows raised. He let out his breath slowly, trying to humor her.

"She likes that. Especially considering Tifa's giving lessons for free," he scanned her carefully. She sighed.

"Times have really changed, haven't they?" she said, with an amused grin.

* * *

"I don't mean to," she whispered quietly. He looked up from his plate. 

"Don't mean what?" he replied, letting some more food meet his mouth.

"To expect her to be..." she continued shakily, "..._her_." He put down his fork and placed his hand on top of hers.

* * *

"Do you even remember what it was like?" he said, staring at the horizon line. She looked down. 

"Sometimes," she replied, fiddling with her hands, "Little things. Like objects and certain types of days remind me." He chuckled.

"Chocolate cake," he said simply. She gave him a funny look.

"Do I even _want_ to know what that was about?" she said, letting a little of her sarcasm slip. He laughed harder.

"Not the way you talk about it!"

* * *

"Please, just go away," she said quietly, that politeness never wearing down. He put a little more pressure on the door. 

"What are you doing?" he said, checking out the state of disarray her house was in.

"Please, just go away," she repeated, putting her full weight on the door. But he was stronger and managed to get inside.

"You don't have to hide all the time," he said, face etched with worry. She shook her head frantically.

"This isn't my house!" she cried, sinking to her knees, "I'm so alone so alone..." He leaned down and grabbed her shoulder.

"You're not alone. You've got her... and me."

"You can't replace _them_."

* * *

"Why are you still here?" she asked, blinking from an uneasy sleep. He sat upright from his position on the couch. 

"I worry about you," he stated plainly, "A woman like you should be out more. With people. With children." She shivered.

"How old do you think I am?" she asked forcefully. He blinked in the darkened light.

"Can't be much older than forty..." he said truthfully, but unsure of the intent.

"Try fifty-two," she spat out, like it was a curse. He stood up an walked closer to her.

"What's so bad about that, Elmyra?" he said gently, pushing back some of her grayed hair. She sobbed.

"I'm a childless widow," she stated plainly, "Isn't that reason enough?"

* * *

"We're going outside," he said, with a gentle forcefulness. She continued to stare away from him. Then his face lit up. 

"Alright, if you're not going to respond..." He walked over and hoisted her over his shoulder without a second thought. She gasped.

"What are you doing!"

"Getting you outside. The sunshine misses ya."

* * *

"No, not here..." she whimpered, trying to pull away from the careful hold he had on her arm. He shook his head. 

"You're worse than Tifa..." he said good naturedly, but stopped smiling when she shot him an angry green glare.

"Why do you insist I go through so much pain?" she whispered intensely. He looked her directly in the eye.

"Because, from what I know of your daughter," he said with as much delicacy as a man of his demeanor coutld, "She wouldn't like what you've been doing." Elmyra hung her head.

* * *

"Thanks..." she murmured, barely audible. He nodded. 

"Stay... for dinner?" she asked, beckoning him inside.

* * *

"Marlene looked so pretty today!" she said gaily, arms spread out, "I think she's met a boy." He nearly dropped his fork. 

"A what?" he said, like someone had told him that Sephiroth was standing outside the door and was looking for Marlene.

"Oh, she's getting to be that age you know..." she teased. He made a small "hmph" sound.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he replied, giving her a wary eye. She clucked, and smiled back at him.

"You can't hold onto her forever Barret," she said, with a tinge of seriousness amongst the teasing. He sighed.

"We've gotta be careful of that, don't we?"

* * *

"Have you ever considered getting married again?" he asked idly, while they sat on the porch. 

"No, why?"

"I dunno, I'm not getting any younger, and Marlene could sure use the influence and..." he trailed off at her frown. Then she started laughing.

"What?"

"Th-that's the worst..." she sputtered out between giggles, "...marriage proposal..." He got a strange grin on his face, proceeding to pin her arms.

"Well, you love me, don't ya?" She smirked.

"Perhaps..." she began and saw his face fall, "Of course, you old bear."

* * *

AN: Note, I didn't use Barret's ebonics, so that you could guess more for what he was _saying_ not the words he used. And I always saw Elymra as speaking with a more proper sort of tone. This one inspired by writing Chorophobia. Weird, I inspired myself. Heh. 

And I know it's been awhile. Other stories and school happen.


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